I Know And I Don't Care (Cedric Diggory x Reader)

Chapter 39

"It could be a cliff climb?"

"While this region is the most mountainous in the UK, it's not that grand in height."

"A challenge of the quidditch variety?"

"Fleur has been unlucky in her hand but a task centered on broomstick riding ability would practically give the trophy to anyone but her."

"She can ride."

"Better than three seekers?"

"Argh." Hermione laid her her on the library table, dust rising from the pages of the book surrounding her. I could only see over the pile because of my standing nature. I chuckled against the bookcase I was leaning on, the candle I was holding to read my own literature, wiggling its frame from the light laugh.

"You're smart Hermione, but this is the Triwizard Tournament. You didn't see the pitch housing dragons in November. Or the lake in play for the second. The third would be impossible to guess."

My attempt at cheering up the brightest student of my class didn't seem to do the trick, as Hermione pierced her eyes at me. They looked devilishly black in the dim-lit room.

"I'm not guessing." She spat, shaking her head out to wake up a bit more, before diving back into her work. "I'm researching."

"Answers don't always come in the form of books. Trust me."

Hermione titled her head at me as I sat across from her. Thinking over my words, and the brutal honesty of a secret in the tone of the delivery, I took the current read out of her hands. "I don't think this is going to help."

"A Study into the Possibility of Reversing the Actual and Metaphysical Effects of Natural Death, with Particular Regard to the Reintegration of Essence and Matter is going to help."

My eyes had started rolling halfway through the title and continue as Hermione pestered on about its importance. "It's a...preventative measure. If I can't guess the task, might as well help out after."

"Don't do that." I shut the book, both the one in my hands and the one she was reading between us. "Where's Harry? He should be doing this. He's the one who is going - "

"To what?" Hermione said. There was no hate in her voice. Just real curiosity. We didn't know. We couldn't know.

I could. But would I?

It'd been months since my last fortune. The longest dry spell since the beginning of my powers. They started sporadically. I had wanted them to go away. Right?

Then why was I wishing for one? To put Hermione out of her 5 hour stretched in the library? To give Harry some guidance in his preparation? To save my best friend.

I didn't have to question the last hope. I felt in in my gut. Weeks ago, I had lied to Cedric's face about it. I wouldn't divulge any information. It was wrong for me to know the future. Outright immoral for anyone else to know. Still, I felt like I was still lying, telling myself it was good to not know. I knew. It was wrong. And I didn't care.

No.

I know and I don't care. Present. Not past. Sure as hell not future.

"He doesn't like to worry himself over this sort of thing. It'd only hurt for him to find no answers."

"Like it's hurting you." I questioned. Hermione stopped her search along the shelf she had went to. He finger grazed the spine of one of the books.

"Where's Cedric?"

I stood up, taking the moment of movement to form a comfortable sentence. The few steps were nice but I'd need to travel through every library aisle to be able to say the next words evenly. "Similar reasons. No answers...."

"No closure." Hermione finished. The right side of her face was lit by the few candles we had lit, the left dark next to the shelf. She symbolized my very thought on her - one side warm and trustworthy, the other an unknown.

I could tell her. I should. I want to.

"I imagine if we were in their positions, we wouldn't be here." I grabbed the book from her hands and walked the length of the aisle to find it's spot.

"I would be here." Hermione defied. "I'd want answers."

"And if you couldn't find them?"

She paused, her brunette waves appearing blonde in the warm light. "Merlin, I don't know."

"We never do." I sighed, going for the last book in her arms as she asked me what I would do. I chuckled when she suggested trying out Wizards chess, since that was the one thing that Ron complete escaped into.

The amusement left once she went on about how I always seemed to know what was going to happen. She didn't sound like McGonagall, asking if I knew anything. Or Mrs. Weasley questioning my sleep. She sounded....like Hermione. Observant. Intelligent. Logical.

I had gotten pretty good at acting in the moment. But it was hard to experience pain when it was the second (or thousandth considering how many times I thought about it) time I was experiencing it. My performance at the Quidditch World Cup was as honest as it could be, the sight of death still so fresh in my mind.

My reaction toward Cedric, which she usually got a close up of, was definitely more telling. If she was watching closely, which she usually was, my front would be easy to see through.

I would be proud of her for figuring it out. Only a tad disappointed it took so long. She would insist she didn't say anything earlier because of a lack of evidence. Maybe even say she didn't want to intrude. But she did. She liked to say it. Support or not, she could argue anything.

She didn't have to argue this.

"I have to tell you something."

Hermione looked back at me, only setting the books she had picked up back down when I sucked in a sharp breath.

My eyes, as they always did in times of such privy information, darted around. The library was made for quiet. We were surely to be the only ones left. The candle light, cascading over the shelves and most easily spotted through the continuous aisles, was what worried me. If anyone was in here, the glow of our spot would give us away.

Hermione said my name, the worry in her voice minimal but noticeable. She had nothing to be concerned about. It was me, scared of her reaction, a response, the reproductions, that should've faltered my voice.

I just needed to take a breath. In through the nose. Out through the mouth.

I did as I told myself, the candle blowing out as I directed the air towards it.

Darkness captivated us. Cloaking the space in a single moment.

My words could only guide us now.

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Happy new year! Thanks so much for reading!

Comment down below why you think Hermione and our character get along so well? Their hidden secrets? The shared ones? Maybe it's the love they have for their best friends that hold them close.

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